Paperback Writer
by Lovely PomegranateBlossom
Summary: Carillie Wesleyan, math prodigy, finds it difficult to deal with her dreams and aspirations. Her friendship with the Beatles, however, changes her outlook and the people she holds dear.
1. Chapter 1

Paperback Writer

**Disclaimer: I ain't own the Beatles. Really. I'm just a fan who wants to write a little fanfic. Please review. I don't mind. Really. I like opinions.**

Chapter 1: Somewhere Hidden Close By

Carillie Wesleyan couldn't take it any longer. The professor's eyes were on her, waiting for the mathematical wunderkind to answer the problem in the chalkboard. Behind her, was the scholarship board, silently waiting as well. Carillie's hand shook almost dropping the piece of chalk that she had gripped firmly in hand. _I know the answer but—but…_ Carillie dropped the chalk and squealed a shrill "I'm terribly sorry!" as she dashed out of the lecture hall towards the streets of London.

_I know the answer. Beyond the answer even, but I won't be treated as a freak who happens to understand theoretical mathematics and that entire crowd! I want to be a writer! A writer!_

Carillie breezed past the streets of London without stopping. Her wavy black hair swished to the beat of her step. Anyone laying eyes upon the nineteen-year old college student would've never guessed the anxiousness for the comfort of home. A look into her green eyes, the windows of her soul, would reflect the anxiety and pressure that ran through her thoughts. Carillie didn't stop until she reached home, also known as the Marble Corner Bookstore and Vinyl. It was the type of store known by the locals. For a non-local to have access to the store, they had to incredibly lost or be seeking it specifically.

Marble Corner had been the family business forever. Carillie grew up surrounded by music and books. Her love for literature was nurtured by the rows and rows of books. He parents were gone. Gone for the past year. After her father was diagnosed with cancer, he asked his daughters if it was all right for him and their mother to travel the world before his death. They had agreed. Their parents did not fully abandon them. They often rang up, sent letters/postcards, and gifts.

As a result, Carillie along with her older sister, Willow, and younger sister, Ellery, had begun living alone. Carillie spent most of her spare time running the shop. Her sisters helped out, but most was left to Carillie. Willow, a talented musician, had taken into giving guitar lessons on the spare room between their store and their living space. Willow, much to her disappointment, had to teach twenty-four teenage boys who had caught the music rock star craze. Almost all her pupils had a crush on twenty-two year old Willow, and had even written songs bearing the name of their teacher and muse. Willow or "Willie" as she was affectionately called did not mind. Her passions with music made her love her students, and dutifully taught them chords. Sixteen year old Ellery was an aspiring fashion designer. She transformed an empty nook in the record area into a studio where she did alterations for other people for money, and alterations for her own hand me downs. Carillie was always amazed at Ellery's ability to transform old clothes into the latest fashion. All in all, the Wesleyan sisters were content and happy they could carry on without sacrificing their father's happiness.

Upon arriving, Carillie was greeted by Ellery.

"Guess what?" Ellery cried. "Guess what just arrived for the vinyl section?"

"What?"

Ellery proudly presented an LP. "'With the Beatles', the latest album! Oh! I just heard it! It's so—ah!" Ellery pretended to swoon with a hand dramatically brushing her brown hair.

Carillie smiled in amusement. Ellery was a huge fan of the Fab Four. Willow was more critical saying that they had to convince of her of being the best band ever. Carillie personally liked them, but was nothing compared to Ellery who had dedicated her spare cash in Beatifying her room.

Ellery turned to her sister with a spark of curiosity in her green eyes. "How did your audience with the scholarship board go?"

"I ditched it," she replied nonchalantly—bracing herself for Ellery's outburst.

"WHAT?" Ellery nearly knocked her beloved older sister down. "Why!? It was your future! Everything!"

Carillie sighed. "I know, but I don't want to be a math major because I am exceptionally good at it. I love literature and that is what I want to do. Create literature."

Ellery was about to argue, but she noticed Carillie's weary expressional and let it be. "All right. I guess so. Now rest up. You look tired. Ran all the way here, huh? I'll get out of your hair. I'll be sewing if ya need me." Ellery turned around leaving the record on the register counter of the shop.

Carillie nodded gratefully watching her sister disappear in her corner near the jazz records. Instead of resting, Carillie fixed up the shop and took a quick peek at what Willie was up to. Sure enough, Willie was nearing to the end of today's lessons with her students. Willie noticed and her hazel eyes sent a message of greetings toward her younger sister. The other boys noticed and let out a chorus of Hullo, Carillie's. Carillie waved and returned the greetings. Seeing that no one seed to be coming by any time soon, Carillie decided to take a much needed break.

Carillie sat on the windowsill near the poetry aisle. She hugged her knees and let her mind wander deep into her imagination. Deep into her contemplation of Tolstoy's _Anna Karenina_. The steady hum of Ellery's sewing machine and the slam of twenty-four guitars being placed on their cases were beginning to get fainter and fainter. Right before she closed her eyes, the bell rang. Customers? Carillie stood and walked with a perplexed expression in her face towards the main door. Sure enough there were customers. Four of them. The four young men looked familiar with their strange mop-like haircuts. The poor men looked tired and out of breath.

"Excuse me?" Carillie managed to say. "Are you all right?"

The men turn to look at her. She instantly recognized them. The men noticed her tense up and eyed each other nervously.

Carillie Wesleyan, math prodigy, and The Beatles, music superstars, waited to see who would make the first move.

**I do hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Kind along, but I like long chapters in other fanfics and decided I can do the same for y'all. I'll update soon! Gimme a week!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Beatles!**

Chapter 2: There's Nothing Like a Cup of Tea To Make Friends

**I do hope it was enjoyable! In honor of my first reviewer there will be a character named Debbie, after my first reviewer ever! It means a lot! Thanks! ~ Please keep reviewing and thank you! ^_^**

The tension was so thick that not even a knife could cut it. Perhaps an ax would. Perhaps not even an ax. Carillie eyed Ellery's station nervously. Luckily, Carillie's sister had her back turned to the scene. Only the top of her head was visible, and the _ratta-ratta-tak_ of the sewing machine isolated the spirited teenager from the world.

Carillie saw that the Beatles wanted to leave the shop—far away from the silent awkwardness. However, it seemed that something, something far scarier was out there waiting for them. Hell maybe? She thought with a small smile. She relaxed a bit and let out a small smile—the type of smile one gives to reassure scared children. "Hello, welcome to Marble Corner Bookstore and Vinyl. Feel free to take a look around," she said. Carillie turned with a click of her heels and sat back to the register she had been moments before. She opened Anna Karenina and resumed to the passage of Levin's awkward proposal of Kitty.

What had prompted Carillie Wesleyan to treat four superstars like common customers? Her father. As a young girl, Carillie was told to treat customers warmly no matter who they were. "Make them feel content," he would say. "Make them feel like they should want to return someday."

Ringo Starr, Carillie noticed, had taken a sudden interest in the vinyl section.

John Lennon turned to him. "Seriously? We're actually gonna stay?" He eyed whom he assumed was the owner of the shop cautiously. He, out of the four of them, was the most troubled from the intense meeting with the shopkeeper.

Paul McCartney shrugged. "Unless you wanna go back ou-"

"NO!" he barked.

The sewing machine came to a sudden halt.

Ellery let out a screech.

George Harrison quickly hid behind the cookbook section dragging the other two behind him. He silently hoped Ringo would be able to make a hideaway. Carillie noticed their distress where she had been observing the random fuss these guys were making. "What is it, Ellery?" she called quickly strolling to the side opposite of the boys. Paul gave Carillie a puzzled look when both their eyes met. She gave him a slight nod and held a finger up to her lips.

"I ran out of green! I'm out for more! This is awful! If the shop is closed, I'll never get 'it' in time!" Ellery rushed passed her sister, past the numerous bookshelves, and out the door. "Tell Willie I'll be back for dinner!" she called out before leaving out of site.

Carillie let out a sigh of relief and turned to the boys who had just left the section. Ringo was nowhere in sight. "Well," she said. "I do apologize for the fright." With that she flopped back to her station.

George, John, and Paul didn't see any use in browsing around so they followed he shopkeeper. They simply sat next to her. She eyes them curiously.

"Why aren't you screaming?" asked George suddenly. He had no idea why he asked that. He felt joggled at the idea that this random girl was acting, well, normal.

"If I scream, my older sister and her students will come out, and assume you are thieves. I wouldn't you to be beaten into a pulp," she replied coolly.

"That one bird screamed," Ringo piped up. Everyone turned to see the blue-eyed boy give a small wave.

"Where were you?" John piped. "Wanking off?"

Paul nudged him, scowled and gestured to the girl. John ignored him. Carillie however didn't seem to mind. She seemed quite used to it.

"I was at our section in the vinyls. I just ducked, and kinda spaced off," he replied. He turned to Carillie expectantly.

Carillie suddenly remembered that she had been asked aquestion. "My little sister does that a lot. Everyone is used to it."

Paul nodded. "You said something about your older sis teaching. Teacher?"

Carillie nodded. "Yes. Se gives guitar lessons on the room there." She motioned toward the door. "They were packing up when ya came. They usually stay for a cup of tea and scones before setting of their way."

George perked up at the mention of guitars. "Really? Your sister teaches?"

"Yes. For about two years, I think." Carillie couldn't believe she was having a conversation with the Beatles whom she had more or less of a crush on all four especially after the awkwardness of a few moments ago.

"And she gives them tea and biscuits?" he asked a little hopefully.

Paul rolled his eyes. "Really, Gorge? We get hunted out by a bunch of fans, and all you can think about is food?"

"Because we ran away from a bunch of girls is why I'm tired and hungry," George countered.

"He has a point," John agrees.

Carillie nods with understanding. "No wonder you didn't leave right away when you came in. I thought Chillingworth himself was outside waiting for you all."

"Chilling-who?" Ringo looks at her in confusion.

"Nevermind," she rushes with a blush. She tended to drop random literary references. "I'll get some tea." She quietly excused herself, and went out to the kitchenette inside the lesson room. The twenty-four guitarists beamed when the girl came in. "Came in for tea for five," she muttered.

Willie, who was serving tea to the other students nodded. "Ellery's friends or is Debbie over with her sisters?"

"A few customers actually."

Willie stiffens and Carillie blushes. She doesn't know how to tell her that the tea is for the Beatles. "You usually don't have tea with customers, hmmm?"

"Well, these aren't any customers, y'see." Carillie whispered the name of the customers into her sister's ears. Willie's eyes widened and whispered a soft "Oh". Luckily, the boys present in the room were occupied with their food, and took no notice.

Willie sighed. "I don't like them much, but I guess if their famous and have potential, go ahead."

Carillie hugged her sister, and brought out the tea and biscuits to the Beatles. As she arrived on scene she heard someone mutter, "Yeah seems like a nice bird." She stiffened. Were they talking about her? She cleared her throat and held up the tea tray.

"Thank you," George cried with a giant smile on his face.

Carillie smiled warmly, and sat with them as she began to serve. She noticed John looking through her math textbooks. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Ugh..Math. Who buys this shit?"

"Me," Carillie replies. "They're my college textbooks."

The four men look at the book that is more of a book of symbols than numbers and turn to look at Carillie. It's almost as if they are seeing her in a different light.

"You wanna be an engineer or something?" Ringo asked.

"No, I'm an English literature and creative writing major." Carillie didn't want to talk about math and college. The experience with the scholarship board brought too much worries and feelings in her head.

Paul noticed her distress and quickly began talking about how wonderful the refreshments were. The rest seem reluctant but quickly followed. For the next half an hour, they joked and talked about music and how fantastic Willie brewed tea.

George suddenly jumped. "Fuck! It's 6:00! Brian's gonna be mad if we are late for the interview."

The boys groaned. George looked wistfully at the biscuits he couldn't get to eat. Carillie chucked and wrapped them in a handkerchief. She handed it to him. "Here."

He grinned. "Thanks."

The boys didn't look like they wanted to leave but they seemed to enjoy the brief meeting with The Shopkeeper as they began calling her.

"Well, Madame Shopkeeper," John said with a posh accent and bow, "pleasurable service. Definitely five stars out of four!"

George nodded as he kept eating his biscuits while heading out.

Ringo nodded. "I'll buy a record next time around."

"Next time?" Carillie blinked in disbelief.

"Once we find a place agreeable, we come back," Paul explained. He winked at the girl. "We'll have plenty of time to meet your acquaintance then, Miss Shopkeeper?"

Carillie watched in awe and wonder as the four men left the shop and into the London streets. She couldn't believe it. "Hey!" she called out once she gathered her feelings and thoughts. "Name's Carillie!"

**Yay! My longest chapter! I hope to improve the way I portray the Fab Four! Bear with me! I'll do my bets to update once a week! Please review and thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I ain't own the Beatles!**

Chapter 3: How Do You Do, Madame Shopkeeper?

It's been a week since that strange yet warming encounter. Ellery had been fuming the whole week when Carillie told her that all four had been present in the same room Ellery left a few moments later.

"Why didn't ya say anything!" she had cried. "Did you even have the nerve to ask for an autograph for your beloved sister? I'm never speaking to you again!"

Carillie had apologized every day since then, but Ellery was still upset. Debbie, however, was a different story. The Wesleyan's neighbor, Debbie Parker, an aspiring artist, was enormously happy. Debbie herself was a fan, but instead of getting mad at her best friend, Debbie insisted on being told every detail.

"How were they?" she would ask out of the blue when both girls tended their shared garden. "Were they cute? Or is that a TV thing?"

A week had passed, but for Carillie it seemed as if it was yesterday. The visit was brought up so many times by the people round her; it still seemed like a recent event. Carillie truthfully missed them. Sure, it was a brief meeting, but it had been one of the few times Carillie was social with people beyond her sisters and her childhood friend. Carillie strolled around the bookstore placing new arrivals on their corresponding place. As she was placing _The History of Modern Architecture_ on the top shelf, Ellery tugged at her skirt.

'I thought you were mad at me," Carillie stated nonchalantly.

"I am." The green-eyed teenager smirked. "However, if they come again, it'd be convenient to be in good terms with you."

"I doubt they'll come again, y'know. They're the Beatles. They're busy doing music and all that publicity mumbo-jumbo."

Ellery shrugged. "It's 12:30."

Carillie cocked her head in conclusion. "Why in hell would ya tell me the ti—Oh, no!" Horror struck her when she remembered she had class today. "Shit!" She grabbed her bag, and looked coolly at Ellery. 'Shouldn't you be at school?"

Ellery grinned. "We have the day off today. Go, Carillie. You'll be late. I'll take care of the shop." She looked wistfully at the poster of the four Beatles in the back of the record area.

Carillie grinned and ran off.

Carillie knew that if she ran half way, she'd make it in time for class at 12:50. She silently thanked the all loving forces of the universe for allowing her to live near the campus.

At around the same time, Paul McCartney was at a nearby coffee shop. He was tired and seriously needed sleep. Especially after partying at some friend's house. The celebration? Nothing in particular. Desperate to get rid of a nagging hangover, he sipped a cup of strong Turkish coffee. It was too strong, bit it worked like magic. Settling with a newspaper covering his face (to keep the fans away), he calmly read today's headlines. The coffee shop owner strode across the room with a box in hand. Paul was a bit irked because everyone's eyes were staring at the owner who rarely smiled or showed emotions. The owner was smiling. Paul silently cursed believing himself recognized, but he was surprised when the man completely ignored him, and opened the door. A dark-haired girl rushed in and grinned.

"Sorry, Uncle Leroy. I forgot I had class today!" The girl looked spent with her hair wildly sticking out from her head.

"I know," the owner or Leroy said. "Here's your lunch. I'm glad you remembered Tuesday is your lunch treat here. Last week-"

"Last week I had a meeting with the board for y'know. Bye, I'm late!" The girl pecked her uncle in the cheek and ran off.

The clients shrugged and continued with their activities. Paul though found the short conversation intriguing. He found it odd how rushed the girl seemed to finish the conversation. As the girl passed by the window he was sitting nearby, he recognized her. The Shopkeeper! That was not her name though. _What was her name again?_ he mused. _She said her name before she left but… _He let that trail off as he checked his watch and noticed the time. _Better get to the studio before everyone else gets there._

When Paul arrived, he was surprised to see the rest of the band there. They were usually late, so seeing them beforehand was odd.

"Hey," Paul greeted everyone.

John smirked. "Look who's late. You're late, Macca."

"I am not. You are all early. What made all of you little fuckers come early today?"

George who had been tuning has guitar shrugged. "Felt like it."

"Liar," Ringo pointed out. "You wanted to come early, so that we can finish early, and finally get a chance to talk to Miss Shopkeeper. She said her name Cara-something, but I don't remember."

George flushed and turned away mumbling something between "Sod off" and "prick". Paul soon found a way to get by his "lateness". "Ah, really?" he teased. "Well, guess who I saw before coming in?"

George cocked an eyebrow. "Her? How?"

Paul soon told her how he more or less encountered Miss Shopkeeper. John however lost his patience and insisted getting work done before visiting the shop.

Carillie dragged herself back home. She loved college, but every day the love shriveled. She was doing a good job in her chosen major, but many professors continued saying it wasn't her vocation. "You were mad to be genius in mathematics. It's your calling." Those words echoed in her head and made her woozy. _Who the fuck cares?_ she asked herself. _I don't wish to do that at all_. She readjusted her scarf and greeted Debbie with a smile. Debbie was out embroidering with Ellery who was chatting away about the latest styles.

"It's quite the pattern, but a fall palette doesn't do it justice. Y'know what a fall palette is, Debbie? It's—Ah! Hey, Carillie! How was class?" Ellery waved holding the sampler up to show her latest project. It was a peacock. So far the head was complete. Ellery quickly nudged Debbie to show off her work as well. Debbie sighed, and displayed a teddy bear. The stitches were crooked and the face was rather amusing.

"It's a disaster. I know," she admitted with a look of defeat. "Laugh, Carillie, dear."

Carillie shook her head. "It's getting better all the time, Debbie. School was fine, Ellery. How's the shop?"

"Customers were an average today," Ellery replied.

Carillie nodded and shivered as a coo breeze rushed in. "Wanna go inside? I'm craving hot chocolate. It'll do you all good."

Once in inside the shop, the girls dropped embroidery, and talked about their day. Debbie was about to talk about the giant spider that attacked her while gardening when Carillie swept in with the hot chocolate. Debbie smiled. "I'll help ya, Carillie."

"Oh, so that's Madame Shopkeeper's name? Carillie? I like Madame Shopkeeper better. Whaddya all think?"

The three girls turned their heads to see four men—The Beatles.

Ellery's eyes shone in excitement, but remembering the warning Carillie had given her about not overreacting she did her best to suppress a squeal. Debbie's mouth was in a silent O before turning to Carillie. "Look, it's your friends."

John laughed. H had been the one to address Carillie. George walked sheepishly towards Carillie's direction. Ringo nudged him with a wink, and Paul pretended to tip his hat. "Fancy meeting ya. Carillie, huh? I agree with John. Madame Shopkeeper suits you."

"That's dandy," Carillie replied. "Hello, what brings you here?"

All three looked at George. "We just wanted to see how you were doing," George mumbled.

"Really?" Ringo grinned. He extended his hand towards the girl. "How do you do, Madame Shopkeeper?"

"Gear," Carillie replied, shaking his hand back. She motioned to the two awestruck girls behind her. "My sister, Ellery, and my friend, Debbie."

After a brief introduction round, all seven merrymakers had eased in. Ellery who was in the middle of a shock, quickly recovered an animatedly spoke with the four men who took a quick liking to the rare to talk to teenager. Debbie was more reserved, but made pleasant conversation. Carillie was happy to talk to her four friends. She found that George really talked the least to her out of the four and felt that maybe he had something against her. She confided this to Paul who merely patted her head. "Nah. He's just being George. Reminds me, I saw you at your uncle's coffee shop."

"Really? How did you know?" She asked.

"I was fighting a wicked hangover and I was at your uncle's. You came in a hurry and ran off. Couldn't say hullo even if I wanted too."

"I was at off to college."

"What do you study?"

Carillie looked at him warily, but the sincerity in his voice warmed her usually cold response when asked about her major. "English literature and a side of mathematics."

"Really?" He looked at her questionably. "Those are tow different sides of the stick, no?"

Carillie shrugged. "I don't like math much, but I'm good at it. That's how I have a scholarship." She really did not want to explain it so Paul quickly hanged the subject.

The both discussed tours. Carillie was surprised at how tiring they were. "I always assumed they were not," she said. "You always look like you're having fin."

"Oh we are. Believe me, daring," he reassured her. "It gets hectic."

"I imagine it does."

Their conversation took all sorts form turns. From tours to food to joking. It was quite a conversation. The clock struck midnight when they got up to leave. Ringo promised to be back soon. George left their number whom he awkwardly gave to Carillie. Carillie realized that he did not hate her, and smiled warmly at him. Maybe next time, she can talk to him more. John waved good-night and winked at Carillie. "Well, Madame Shopkeeper, I hope to meet your other sister. I've heard she's a goddess. A guitar-wielding one. Winona, right?"

"Willow," Ellery piped. "Yes, you'll meet her. She wasn't here today. She was off with a few friends in the country."

The girls watched them walk away, and grinned to each other from ear to ear.

As the Beatles got in their car, George flashed Paul a dirty look. Paul blinked in surprise but was too much of a good mood to question such a gesture. "That was fun,' he told Ringo as they got in the car.

"Sure was,' he agreed.

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm taking my time in this story because I hate rushing romance. I hope I'm portraying them as accurately as possible. I'll update as much as I can, but college apps need my attention! Please review and thank you, fellow Beatle people!**


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